Page 32 of Flames

“Shit,” I suddenly say, pushing her upwards and examining her. “You’re not too hot, are you?”

She smiles at me and swats me away. Laying back down, she curls up against my chest. Her hand reaches out, pulling my wing up. I relent and wrap my golden feathers around her naked form, covering us both.

“Relax, Monster Man,” she says with a yawn, “I’m always cold. I like your heat.”

“My perfect mate,” I coo with a smile as I hold her tightly against my chest and wait for sleep to take her.

Tomorrow there will be problems to face. I will need to deal with Mikhael and the vacancy of Aleksander’s position. Aleksander’s trafficking ring will need to be dismantled and the victims helped. Those who helped in this will also have to be dealt with. I will have to figure out how to live as the man Marisa needs and the monster she craves. Plus, I still need to steal the painting from Mikhael and win the bet.

But those problems don’t seem as daunting as they might have in the past. The knowledge that whatever might happen next, I shall face it with my mate by my side, makes the prospect of tomorrow brighter than it’s ever been.

EPILOGUE

MARISA

Six Months Later

“So, what do you say we get out of here,” he coos in my ear, his fingers circling my waist through the thin fabric of my skin-tight dress.

I down the last dregs of my whiskey, letting the liquor burn my throat and warm my core.

“Ready whenever you are, Greg,” I tell him as I look over my shoulder and offer him a sly smirk.

Greg is a real charmer. He’s got the whole ‘bad boy’ thing down to an art, honestly. His hand tattoos and scruffy beard scream danger but his smirk says he’s down for a good time

And I certainly came here for a good time tonight.

“Your place or mine?” he asks as he peppers kisses against the skin of my neck. My dress is strapless, giving him easy access to plenty of exposed flesh.

“My car’s out back,” I tell him as I grab his hand and guide him to the back exit. “I’ll drive to my place.”

“My bike’s out front,” he says before smacking my ass so hard that several patrons of the bar turn and stare. “I bet you’d love being my backpack.”

Wow. Does that line actually work, bro?

I resist the eye roll and offer him a coy smile over my shoulder. “I’m actually a little afraid of motorcycles.”

The lie is almost too sinister for me to get out without a giggle.

“Don’t you worry, baby,” he reassures me as I lead him out the metal black door of the bar and into the cool night beyond. “I wouldn’t let you fall.”

The air stinks of the city—wet filth and horrible human choices. The sun has set, and in the darkness of night, the alley doesn’t look nearly as gross as when I scouted it earlier.

“Where’s your ca—” Greg’s words are cut off as I throw him against the brick wall. “Oh, you’re too turned on by the thought of my bike to wait,” he says with a smirk as his fingers twist his truly terrible neck beard. “I’ll gladly let you blow me, baby, if that’s what you want.”

The sound of a match bursting to flames down the alleyway pulls both our attention. A figure cloaked in black and shadowed in darkness is leaning against the wall of the alley with one leg bent, his foot perched on the wall behind him. He cradles the flame in his hands, bringing it up to light the cigarette between his teeth.

Now I really do roll my eyes. We talked about the damn cigarettes. He might be an immortal, but that doesn’t mean they’re good for him.

“Private party, pal,” Greg snaps, but I can hear the slight falter in his voice.

It’s smart to be fearful of my mate.

“No,” Phoenix purrs as he throws the match to the ground and smothers the flame under the heel of his boot. The cherry tip of the cigarette glows across the darkness. “It’s not.” He pushes off the wall and slowly starts to prowl towards us. I feel my heartbeat quicken in anticipation. “And this isn’t the type of party you were expecting, Greg.”

My eyes clash with Phoenix’s, and even through the darkness I can make out his heated stare. I’m certain he was watching while I let Greg touch me, and I’m absolutely certain that my mate will make this horrible man pay for daring to touch what doesn’t belong to him.

“How the fuck do you know my name?” Greg demands, but I can hear his fear. “Who are you?”